Delaware
by Kal-El Fornia
Summary: Frowning, Hikari remembered the oatmeal she was supposed to be making, and quickly rushed back to see how it was doing. The frown only grew worse as the gray mush just bubbled up disgustingly. It was moments like this that made Hikari be fully aware of the fact that she had inherited her mother's cooking skills, or lack thereof.


Found this while cleaning out my email. Figured it was worth it to polish and then upload.

Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon.

* * *

There was so much life, so many different oddly melodic noises being made in the Yagami's apartment that Sunday morning, and Hikari couldn't help but grin to herself as she stood in the kitchen with Takeru as he helped her to prepare breakfast. It was the first Yagami-Ishida/Takaishi sibling breakfast that they had actually thrown in a while, Takeru increasingly becoming more and more busy with the different clubs and sports teams at school that he joined throughout the year, but regardless she was happy to finally have him there again. Truthfully, though she would never let Taichi know considering her brother had always thought of it as his duty to protect her 'virtue', whenever Takeru was gone something seemed to be missing. Whether it was his own talking and joking around with their brothers, or Patamon sitting on his head munching on food and farting, it was a tradition that was incomplete without him there.

It went without saying that cooking was something that neither of the two teens were very skilled at, what with Takeru usually only eating microwaveable meals, and Hikari seemingly being genetically incapable of making something edible, but hey, they were at least trying. She glanced over her shoulder, and almost laughed as she saw how stern Takeru's face was as he was adding finishing touches to some easily prepared cooked ham that Takeru had no doubt bought from the Inoue's convenience store on the way over to her home. He was taking this way too seriously.

"You okay there?" she asked after watching him for another moment, for some reason finding Takeru fascinating.

She tried to do that thing where people raised one of their eyebrows in skepticism, but annoyingly found out that her tired early morning face was incapable of doing so. Instead, Hikari turned fully towards him so that she could see him more clearly, but giggled for a second when he glanced over with a face that remained solemn and stoic as ever.

"I'm good here," Takeru paused for a moment, both in speech and his tending to the meat, and he just gave Hikari a confused look since he wasn't really sure what was so funny, "how are you doing on your end?"

Frowning, Hikari remembered the oatmeal she was supposed to be making, and quickly rushed back to see how it was doing. The frown only grew worse as the gray mush just bubbled up disgustingly. It was moments like this that made Hikari be fully aware of the fact that she had inherited her mother's cooking skills, or lack thereof.

"It looks kind of gross." she admitted after staring down at the gray mush.

Takeru didn't say anything, and just considered his words carefully before responding. It was time to choose between either reassuring the girl, or simply making a joke about it.

"So," he paused again before deciding that what he had to say was worth it, "it's just like all your other attempts at cooking then?"

Her gut reaction was to respond in some sort of false indignation and then fling some of the mush his way in order to start one of those food fights that she always saw in romantic comedies and romance novels, but as she looked down at her oatmeal she began to really think about things. She knew that he was only joking and kidding around, but he was speaking the truth nonetheless. With her wooden ladle she began to stir the mush hoping that it would somehow taste amazingly good, and she wondered to herself, could any of Takeru's fans at school cook in a way that could make, not his heart, but his stomach flutter?

Hikari was well aware of the fact that there was nothing that Takeru appreciated more than a home cooked meal since that was something that he tended to have very little of. She also knew that any meal would do, but she had seen that shine of adoration in his eyes before when the food that he was given was something that was particularly good. As she stirred the oatmeal she frowned a little, because it was a look that she would never be able to cause.

"I'm really bad at this, aren't I?"

Watching the way that she reacted, watching the way that her face contorted ever so slightly, Takeru wished that he could punch himself in the face for being such an idiot. Honestly, he had wanted her to laugh, not get her feelings hurt. "You know, it doesn't really matter if you can cook or not."

She stirred her oatmeal sadly for a moment, before she felt a wind of confidence rush her as she raised her head in pride. "Just you watch, Takaishi, I'm going to cook something edible one of these days."

Takeru looked at her suspiciously for a second thinking that perhaps this moment was one of those traps that his father had always told him that women used to ensnare men into servitude, but when he thought that Hikari was being genuine he let a competitive snort out. "Wanna bet on it?"

She looked at him curiously for a second, and then glanced over at her pot of oatmeal before she shrugged. "What do I get if I win?"

Takeru responded with a faux bow of respect. "Your terms, Yagami-sama."

She brought her hand to her chin and thought for a moment because this was her chance to get something good out of Takeru. Perhaps a date maybe? It was tempting, but she decided against it because blackmail wasn't a good story to their kids for the inevitable moment when they asked about how they first started dating just like in all those bad sitcoms and movies.

After a moment though, like Ivan Drago and Apollo Creed, it finally hit her as to what the perfect prize was. "I get Patamon. He's adorable."

Takeru only chuckled, deciding that he would up the ante. "Only if I get Angewoman once I win. She's smokin'."

The next moment was spent laughing, and with Takeru trying to dodge oatmeal Hikari flung his way.

* * *

Peace.


End file.
